The Game Of Echoing
by Soncnica
Summary: Is strangely soothing when you’re drowning.
1. Chapter 1

_Laughs_**…don't ask, and I won't tell…I was at work today and I started scrambling a word, just one word in my notebook and before I knew it I had a whole story written down. I own nothing…nothing I tell ya!!! ****Not even that notebook, because I threw it away, because it was full…gosh…LOL and I'm sorry for all the grammar/spelling errors. I should be working, but I was writing this so...  
**

**Enjoy…**

**---**

The place was freaking full of flies...

"This place is freaking full of flies."

"Just leave the door cracked a little, they'll fly out eventually."

Sam's voice was soft and gentle.

"But won't that…"

"Dean!"

Whoah, Sam's voice can get from soft and gentle to loud and booming in .5 seconds and it's not a pretty sound.

Dean left the door open a little, just enough for the flies to find their way out. He just hoped that their latest hunt won't leave with the flies too. He had no intention of running down the road with his shotgun in hand, knees deep in mud and screaming 'don't run, you son of a bitch.' Well okay, he was down with the first and the last part, but sinking knee deep into mud…yeah, not so awesome.

And it smelled…

"God, Sammy. It stinks in here. Like," Dean sniffed at the air, "like something died in here."

Sam turned around, making Dean stumble backwards a little, hitting his heel into the open door.

"Someone _did_ die in here, Dean."

"Oh, yeah…duh, I know that." Dean raised his eyebrows and side stepped Sam, walking ahead.

And the floor creaked…

"Does it have to creak like that?"

"Dean, I swear…if you don't shut up, I'll cut you off from your candy." Sam whispered.

"You wouldn't dare…you touch my chocolate and you're a dead man." he pointed his finger at Sam's chest and gave him his death glare.

"'m serious." but Sam matched Dean's death glare with a death glare of his own.

Sam was serious. Dean could tell. Damn it, he couldn't afford to be without chocolate…he would go insane…quickly.

Finding the basement was a piece of cake…or pie, Dean thought as he descended down the stairs…that apple pie he had for lunch…_mmmm _what a beauty that was. The crust was golden and crunchy and the filling was sweet and so very tasty. He smacked his lips, remembering the sweet apple pie and the waitress that brought it to their table; Lindsay, Linda, Lisa, Theresa, Becky, Clara or something in that neighborhood. Names meant nothing, when there was a big piece of apple pie in front of him and a fork in his hand.

_Yummy…_

Dean's eyes were roaming through the room, taking in every single detail that made the place what it was...a basement. Shovels, closets, a big working counter, some shelves that were calling out to him, like a burning light does to moths…lure them in and _poof_, they die…trapped.

"Look Sammy, a cookie jar."

Sam came closer to look at the jar Dean held in his hand.

"Yeah, Dean I don't think those are cookies."

"What're you…" he inspected the jar's content more closely and gagged when he saw that the awesome, big cookies were actually human ears.

"Ewww, man…" he placed the jar back on the shelf and stepped away from it. Slowly.

The light flickered a little, when another fly hit it, when another moth crashed into it…it made a sizzling sound when they hit the bulb, but it made no sound when their little bodies fell to the floor…dead.

"Dean, down!!!"

Dean dropped down, hitting his chest on the cold ground with a _whoomph_. A shot rang out, going straight through his ears, not stopping even when he put his hand over his ears to make it stop.

Somewhere in the distance, something made a squelching sound, then that turned into no noise at all, then the silence turned into a growl and then that turned into the most disgusting smell Dean has ever smelled. Not even fresh corpses smelled like that; and the comparisment scared the crap out of him…you don't compare _any_ smell to the one of a rotting corpse…it's just…you shouldn't even know how a rotting corpse smells like. Just goes to prove how weird their lives really are.

_Freaking weird…_

A hand gripped him by his shoulders, hauling him up: "Come on, man. Get up."

Stumbling up to his feet, he gripped Sam's hand and scrunched up his nose, when he stepped closer to the thing lying on the floor. There was nothing left…just some gooey, brownish skin like stuff that was just plain gross.

The smell was probably coming from the green smoke rising up from the pile of…something on the floor.

"Ugh, God it smells…Jesus freaking, disgusting peace of…" he knew once what the thing was called, but for the life of him he couldn't remember it right now. The smell was intoxicating…it made a permanent place in his nose…like so many smells before…Sam's baby powder, Sam's diaper's, Sam's soap, apple pie, Dad's liquor breath, Mom's hair, fresh corpses, dead things, this thing…

He turned around to ask Sam what the thing was called, so that he would be able to at least cuss at it properly, but Sam…

Sam was no where in sight.

**-----**

**TBC…because the 2****nd**** chapter needs some grammar**** improvements. But it should be up later this week. **


	2. Chapter 2

**1. ****I want to dedicate this story to woodburner …happy bday!!! **

**2. T****hanks to everyone who put the story to their alert list **_hugs_

**3. Some**** of you asked me what the word was that I was playing with and writing it down…well the word was 'splash'. Just don't ask me how I got from that word to what is written here. LOL**

**4. I'm playing with some styles of writing here, and I would really appreciate it, if (if you want to of course) could tell how I'm doing so that I won't make the same mistakes twice. **

**E****njoy…**

**---**

_Splash_ makes a thought when it enters your mind, when it falls into the darkness you're in.

_Splash…_

A light touch on your knee, that slides down your shin.

_Splash…_

A light touch on the top of your head, that slides down the tips of your hair.

_Splash…_

A light touch on your hand, that slides down your forearm.

_Splash…_

A slight touch on your nose, that slides down your lips.

_Splash…_

And you finally open your eyes to pitch blackness.

-:-

"Sam?" Dean yelled.

"Sammy?!"

Another moth crashed into the light bulb, and the thing finally gave up and went out with a loud _pop_.

Dean found himself in utter darkness, surrounded with utter silence…utterly alone.

"Freakin' awesome."

"Sam?" he whispered into the pitch black room and chased a fly off his face. God, he hoped it was just a fly…

"Stupid flies…" he mumbled to himself and reached his hand to his pocket, looking for his flashlight. Grabbing it with his hand he pulled it out and turned it on. It made a slow flickering sound and then nothing. He tried to turn it on again, and the thing just…died.

"Son of a bitch."

He stood in the middle of the room, a small room, a little room, a basement for crying out loud and…his gigantic brother just vanished in said little room…a tiny itsy bitsy room…

"Sam…stop screwing around…let's go."

He whispered to the itsy bitsy room, but the itsy bitsy room gave out the longest echo he had ever heard in his life.

"Stupid houses with basements were dumb creatures live, creatures with names I can't even remember, creatures that smell like sweaty shoes on dead people...stupid basements with stupid light, stupid flashlights with dead batteries that someone," he screamed the 'someone' part, "forgot to change, stupid huge little brothers that get lost in little rooms…"

He was babbling, trying to keep a cool head, trying to keep the panic away from his mind, trying to keep himself busy while he roamed his arms all over the place. His fingers hit some jars on the shelves, knocking them down, and he was pretty sure that _that_ was an ear that just slid down his shin.

"Sammy, answer me!"

Even through his babbling, the panic was rising, getting louder, deeper.

"Sam, answer me man…come on. This isn't funny."

His palms found the sweaty walls of the basement and he fallowed them in blackness, all around the room.

"Sam, come on!" he yelled to the silence in the room and the panic in his chest.

His fingertips were sliding over weeping walls, bumping into things; shelves, shovels and other crap.

"Sam!!"

The panic was getting stronger now, gripping his heart and mind in its tight fist, squeezing out hope.

"Sam!!!"

-:-

_Splash_ makes a word that falls into your mind, and seeps into the depth of your brain.

_Splash_,_ splash_,_ splash_ all over your body, when all you know is darkness, a buzz in your head and one word that you hear and recognize…even when you're entangled with the darkness.

'_Sam…'_

You push yourself up, up on your knees and hands, up from the cold stony ground and feel what the _splash_ was all about…water…around you…dripping on you, dripping in you…

_Drip…_

On the top of your head.

_Drip…_

On your jacket.

_Drip…_

On your middle finger.

"DEAN!!!"

-:-

"What the…"

Dean spun around and stretched his hand into the blackness, feeling nothing but cold air.

"Sam!!!"

He tried again, his brother's name like a prayer to him; a sound on his lips to chase away the panic.

-:-

"Dean!!"

You raise yourself up on your feet, your head connecting with a damp ceiling making your hair wet in an instant.

-:-

"Sam!"

Dean heard it…the sound of his baby brother's voice, the sound of his name spoken with a hazy, muted voice.

-:-

"Dean!"

You can't catch your breath…it's like the air is eluding you, running away from your lungs into the darkness.

-:-

"Sam, where are you?!"

-:-

You laugh, you wish you knew the answer to that.

"I don't know!!!"

God, your voice sounds like it's under water, trembling.

-:-

"Sam, okay, keep talking!!!"

Dean felt his way around the basement, feeling every inch of the walls, kept getting closer to the spot where he thought he heard Sam's voice.

-:-

"What do you want me to say?!!!"

-:-

"Anything, man!!!"

-:-

"Anything!!!"

-:-

"Very funny!!!"

Dean laughed and Sam's laughter joined him when he reached the far wall of the basement hidden a little behind the shelf where he encountered the 'ears' before.

-:-

"Well, you said I should say anything, so…"

-:-

"Smartass!!!"

-:-

You chuckle and repeat the word. The game of echoing your brother's words is strangely soothing over the booming noise of _splash, splash, splash_.

-:-

Dean placed his hands on the slippery wall. The stony texture was wetter here then anywhere else in the room.

"Sam, you here?!!!"

He leaned his mouth as close to the wall he could without actually kissing it.

-:-

You take two steps in the blinding dark that surrounds you, two steps closer to the sound of your big brother's voice…like a moth coming closer to the light.

You press your hands, palm down on the teary walls; they are as wet as rain.

"Dean?!" you try to yell, but it comes out as a whisper.

-:-

"Sam, you there?!!!"

Dean placed his hands, palm down, on the wall, feeling the wetness there.

-:-

"Yeah, 'm here!!!"

Little droplets of water are running down your fingers, down your wrist and you think: "Dean, I think you need to get me out of here!!!"

-:-

"What gave you that clue?!!!"

-:-

"The water that is up to my waist, and getting higher?!!! Maybe?!!!"

-:-

And for a brief second, Dean's breath stopped, his forehead falling onto the uneven wall, his fist hitting the hard surface and his mouth forming a word: "Sam..."

**---**

**TBC because I need to find my other notebook. Don't ask, just don't ask. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey!**

'**m here, 'm here…I found my other notebook and here it is…the final chapter. Yey! But I think that it won't be like you expected it to be...if I disappointed you, I'm really sorry. Thank you very much for reading!!!  
**

**Enjoy…**

**---**

"Sam?!"

The air came back to Dean's lungs as suddenly as it had left them.

-:-

"Dean…I really think you should get me out of here!!!"

The water is rising slowly, but it's cold…its so cold. Icy hands grabbing you, pulling you under. Making you tremble and shake. You push your fingers into the dirty wall, you slam your fists into it, but nothing gives. Nothing breaks. Just you…inside. Afraid.

-:-

"Okay, okay, just…just…give me a sec here!!!"

-:-

"Dean, man…I don't think I have a second!!!"

-:-

Dean heard that tone of voice before. It was the 'Dean, I think I'm not gonna make it' tone of voice and he just won't have that.

"Sam," he started to feel his way around the room, "how big," his foot collided with a shovel and he cursed and thanked the Lord, "is the room?!!!" he picked the shovel and started to feel his way back to the wall, "How much space do you have," he grunted when he slammed the shovel into the wall, "between your head and the ceiling?!!!" and he slammed the shovel into the wall once more. Nothing gave, nothing cracked, nothing moved.

-:-

"Ummm, I'd say that the top of my head is touching the ceiling!!!"

-:-

"Son of a bitch," and he pushed the shovel back into the wall, and one stone cracked a bit, "why did you have to," he slammed the shovel into the wall once more, "grow up so tall?!!!"

-:-

"You made me eat all the veggies!!!"

Your voice is cracking, the icy cold water weakening your efforts to speak clearly. Your mind is becoming fuzzy, your eyes slipping shut.

-:-

"You blaming me, man? That is weak!!!"

Two more stones moved under the relentless slamming of the shovel.

-:-

"Whatever, dude!!!"

You know your voice is shaking and you know your brother noticed that too and you know what that will do to him and you know what the next question will be…

-:-

"Sam, how high is the water?!!!"

-:-

"Neck high."

You would lie, you would…you really, really would, but…he's your brother and he deserves to know. He deserves to know that the cold water is up to your chin, already splashing into your mouth. You can taste it. It's muddy. Disgusting. Cold.

-:-

"Okay, man. 's gonna be okay. Just keep talking to me!!!"

-:-

"About what?!!!"

There is this unnatural sway in your words and you know that the cold is making you numb. You dig your fingers into the wall, you bang your hands into the wall, your want the wall to crack open, you need the wall to disappear, but the truth is…the wall is there and the sound of your brother's rescuing attempts are getting louder and louder until there is only this booming sound in your ears.

"Dean!!!"

-:-

"Sam?!!!"

He slammed the shovel into the wall with force; a strength he didn't even know he had.

"How high?!!!"

-:-

Water all around you…dark, pitch black…muddy, pebbly, cold, the booming sound of your brother trying his best to get you out…the water in your eyes, in your ears…death around the corner.

-:-

"Sam!!! Sammy!!!"

-:-

You gasp so loud and so harsh that your throat starts to burn and your lungs start to ache. Your lips are touching the ceiling and you feel some sand in your throat.

"Dean!!!"

-:-

"Sam, I'm almost there!!! Just hang on!!!"

-:-

"Dean, I can't…" you gasp, and touch the ceiling with your hands, trying to stay up, trying to catch some air…

-:-

"Sam!!!"

-:-

There is no light in the water. Nothing. It's just a feeling of being weightless. Of floating. But there is one little thing that keeps you from saying that it almost feels like its peaceful.

Pain. The deep hurt in your chest, that need to draw in air, that ache so deep that you think your lungs will explode. And it hurts, it hurts so bad, you think that if drowning won't kill you, that pain definitely will. And those knives…the icy knives digging into your skin…

-:-

"Sam!!!" Dean slammed the shovel into the wall one last time and one of the stones cracked completely. Shattered into a million pieces. Water rushed out of the crack and the force of it helped Dean to crack some more stones and the wall gave in. It cracked. It shattered. It lost.

The water that emerged from behind the wall was furious, vicious. Cold, freaking cold. Numbingly cold.

It hit Dean square in his chest, and slammed him into the opposite wall.

He tried to scream and fight it, but you can't fight the water. No one can fight against water. You just have to go with it.

And then something hit his stomach. Something that wasn't water. Something that was soft yet hard at the same time. Something that he would recognize even in the darkness he was in. Something, that made him feel alive again.

"Sammy."

He pushed his hands through the force of the water and gripped tight to the long, wet hair, slowly feeling his way down to his brother's shoulders.

Holding the limp body in his hands, he didn't even notice when the water stopped its assault, but he did notice when the limp body started coughing and trashing.

"Sam." He hooked his hands across his brother's chest and squeezed at Sam's stomach hoping that that would make Sam cough out all the extra water. And it did. And it was nasty.

The pitch darkness prevented Dean to see anything…he couldn't see how Sam was doing, he couldn't see if Sam was bleeding, he couldn't see if Sam was hurt, he couldn't see how Sam was breathing. And he definitely needed to see Sam breathing, feeling his brother breathing was just not enough. He needed to see it to believe it.

"Come on, man. Let's get out of here."

Sam groaned and coughed and spit out some water.

"Sam, help me out here."

Dean could feel the way Sam was shuffling his feet, dragging them along. All he could really do was support his weight as much as he could and just…walk. Walk on water that was up to their knees. Freezing, icy water.

"D'an..G'd…"

Sam spit more water on the ground, and gasped for air that his lungs were calling for.

"Keep breathing…"

-:-

The front door was still open a crack, the flies were gone, the mud was still outside, glistering in the moonlight. The rain they've been having for a few days now, already caused some floods in the district, but…he never thought that it would happen to them. Inside of a house nevertheless.

_Just comes to prove what freaks we are__…_

"Sam, come on," Dean dragged his brother to the car and leaned him against the door, "wait a sec."

Leaving Sam leaning against the Impala, murmuring how cold he is and spitting water on the floor, Dean went to rob the trunk of blankets, pillows and dry clothes.

He threw the pillows and the blankets into the backseat; the Impala will keep them dry until he will be able to get his brother there too.

"Sam?"

Sam was on all fours, fingers and knees lost into the muddy ground, coughing and spitting like a cigarette addict.

"Ah…" and another spit on the floor.

"You okay?"

"Just give me a minute. Gotta…" and he threw up the lunch he had only a few hours ago. He just hoped that he won't get any diseases from drinking that water.

He groaned and threw up some more.

"Sam?"

Dean's hand was half way to Sam's back when his brother finally groaned out: "'m fine…"

"Sure, I can hear you being fine."

"'m suffering here…"

"Sure you are. Come on," Dean took Sam by his hands, his grip solid and sure, "get up."

Sam staggered to his left a little, running his trembling hands over his hair and face.

"Take off your clothes, man. Sam, hey..."

Dean's hands were shaking from the cold, the buttons were proving to be difficult, the zipper too and he cussed at them and almost ripped off the zipper of his jeans when the damned thing wouldn't move. He got the dry shirt on and finally some dry jeans…but Sam was just standing there with wet clothes clinging to him and hair in his eyes.

"Sam. Look at me."

"'m cold, man."

It was a whisper and the lost gaze he wore, made Dean sigh.

"I know you are. Come on Sam, we need to get some warm clothes on you. Now come on. Help me take these off."

"m tired."

Sam slipped to his side, bumping his back on the window.

"Come on, Sam. Don't quit on me now. You'll sleep later."

Dean managed to get Sam's jacket off, but when he went for the hem of his brother's shirt Sam's icy cold hands stopped him: "Whutcha doin'?"

"Sam…come on. Help me out here, dude. Hmm? Yeah?"

Something shifted in Sam's eyes. Something from 'I'm scared' to 'I trust you' and Dean was so happy he could scream.

"Good, Sammy…'s good…" Dean breathed out and took off Sam's shirt.

"Sam, what happened?" Dean asked when he ran his hands over Sam's back, down his ribs, checking for injuries hidden to the naked eye.

"The wall," Sam gasped when Dean poked a finger to his ribs.

"Hurts?" Dean raised his eyebrows.

"No, just…cold."

"Can you breathe alright?"

"Define breathing?"

"We're going to a hospital."

"'m cold."

"Here's a shirt. Your chest hurts, your lungs burn, your head dizzy, you gonna throw up, anything besides the fact that you're cold?"

It felt like he was transported back in time, when he helped Sam dress. One hand through the hole and then the other one. Nice and easy.

"Nothing. 'm okay. Just cold."

"Here's your hoodie."

"Thanks."

Shaky fingers grabbed it and trembling hands zipped it.

"What happened, man?" Dean's fingers reached for Sam's jeans button and zipper, "One minute you're shooting things," they both tried to pull down his jeans, but they were like a frozen second skin on Sam's legs, "move away from the door, and sit on the seat," Sam moved away and sat down, allowing Dean to pull down his jeans and his underwear all in one swift motion, "and the next you pull a Houdini on me."

Sam huffed in embarrassment, cold and frustration and placed his hands on his lap, keeping some dignity: "I…the wall…I leaned on it and it just…swallowed me." He leaned his head to the side and spit some more water on the floor. He could feel mud in his mouth, crunching between his teeth when he clenched his jaw.

"Put this on."

Brand new boxers were thrown in his hands and he didn't give a second thought as to put them on or not.

"It swallowed you?"

"It shifted and…I crashed down on the floor and…I don't know."

"And this."

Dean threw him a new pair of jeans.

Dean looked at the hunched form of his brother: "I don't know what to say to that, man."

"Dude, you think I do?"

Sam coughed some more and spit on the muddy ground.

"You okay?"

Dean picked him up from the seat and steered him towards the backseat and practically threw him in.

"I'll live. 'm not so cold anymore."

"Good, here." Dean threw a blanket over him, noticing that Sam's shivers really did subside since changing into warmer, dry clothes.

"I think that room was the creatures lair, you know?"

Sam's voice was a gruff sound; irritated by the coughing and throwing up.

Dean looked into Sam's eyes; watery and a bit red...irritated because of the muddy water: "Lie down, okay? 'm gonna take you to the hospital."

"'kay…"

Sam's eyes were closed even before his back hit the seat.

**--- **

**The End**


End file.
